Tea in the Trees of Mirkwood
by Alarielle
Summary: The reasoning behind Legolas’ brainlessness: his traumatised forefathers. The Life History of the Royal Clan of Mirkwood.
1. Chapter One

Author's Notes  
  
This part usually comes at the end of a fan fiction, when the modest writer graciously accepts the hundred or more reviews that his/her story generated, with a witty and interesting insight into how they wrote it. Well, traditions are made to be broken.  
  
After having read a few of Tolkien's books, it has become a topic of notice that there is very little helpful history involving the Royal Clan of Mirkwood. This seems more than a little unfair as, although they do not live in either the majestic Mallorn Trees of Lothlorien or the tranquil Golden Valley of Rivendell, they did play a reasonably important role in one or two key events of Middle Earth History.  
  
Being the helpful busybody that I am, I intend to clarify parts of the story that Tolkein sadly managed to breeze over - an aching gap that he would surely have remedied, had he not died first. Following an in-depth analysis of the parts of history that the honourable Professor did include, and spending slightly more 'critique' time on the parts that he did not, I believe that an entirely rational solution has been reached. Its name is 'Tea in the Tress of Mirkwood' and it lives up to the very epic nature that the title inspires.  
  
And now a shameless plug; if you have read my other fiction 'The Unexpected Reunion' then one or two things about the Mirkwood elves portrayed are unclear (and if you haven't I would strongly recommend that you do), a problem that I intend to clarify in this tale.  
  
Many of the names in this story are either taken or borrowed from the Silmarillion. They will be returned to their rightful owners when this is over - I'm merely using the names, not the people, so please don't get confused.  
  
Lastly I don't own any of this, and I'm not making money. And thanks to my brother for beta reading.  
  
-  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Thranduil of the Woodland Realm had just been crowned King. Before his father's untimely death in the battles of the Last Alliance he had lived a life of confinement and boredom. His father's close friends and advisors had despaired when Thranduil had been named heir to the throne a few centuries back, mainly because he had been (and always would be) such a bad scholar. Never would Thranduil Greenleaf possess the slightest wisdom that all other noble elves were born with; never would Thranduil be able to sit through a meeting with advisors without going to sleep, groaning with boredom, or breaking into song; and most importantly, never would Thranduil be capable of remembering all the lines to the 'King of Mirkwood's Midsummer Solstice' chant.  
  
The special chant.  
  
The chant that was necessary in the gentle encourage of the Sun to stop staying out all the time, and let the moon have a go for a bit.  
  
The chant that without which, the elven kingdom would surely suffer form eight or nine plagues - Elves were a superstitious lot, even in those days.  
  
The chant that had been word perfectly performed every summer since the beginning of time.  
  
Until now.  
  
When he had been young, the masters who'd been employed to teach him all the sorts of useful things about life, had given up after a couple of hours owing to their understandable inability to hold his attention.  
  
The only thing that caught Thranduil's real interest was violence. His mother always said he would grow out of it, but he never had. Never had the throwing of sticks at rose bushes lost its charm, nor screaming at unsuspecting travellers ever become less amusing. The battle of the Last Alliance had been no different. Chopping orcs in tiny pieces during the early skirmishes had proved to be delightful. The only trouble was that in the main battle, Thranduil's father had refused to let him fight in the front line, saying his life was too precious to waste in such a bloodbath. Thranduil had stuck out his bottom lip and then had proceeded to beat up his four man servants instead. He had then been trussed up like a chicken on medical grounds of 'Battle Shock' for the rest of the fighting.  
  
And now the newly crowned King was supposedly learning the lessons that he had not learned all those years ago. From dawn until dusk he was forced to toil under the cruel watchful eye of elvish loremasters; learning all kinds of useless information that someday he might need in his time as King. He'd pleaded, threatened and finally ordered them to leave him alone but to no avail. His old uncle Celeborn, husband of Galadriel the Great (or so his advisors insisted on calling her) had arrived a few days after his crowning to supervise the education of his young nephew.  
  
Thranduil had raised a strong protest at this, owing to the fact that Celeborn was not his uncle, he had just been told to call him that, and so really he should have no power over him. Celeborn had smacked him, and told him he wasn't worthy of such a realm. Thranduil's reply had made Celeborn turn purple.  
  
The only thing that really caught the new King's attention was the talk of him finding a Queen. The sensible advisors had pointed out that being a King, he would need an intelligent female to rule by his side. The emphasis being put on the 'intelligent' part of the job description, owing to Thranduil's incapacity in showing the required potential to become the wise, clever and respectable King he was meant to become. The loremasters had decided that, in the absence of the actual King being capable of making a sound go of the Midsummer Chant, a Queen might be up to the job.  
  
If he had been left to himself, the Mirkwood King would happily have spent years selecting a mate, taking time and 'testing' to be sure he found the absolutely perfect one. Thranduil had even written a list of characteristics that this Lady had to have to make her worthy of being his bride.  
  
For one thing, he would insist that she looked nothing like his mother.  
  
Also, she had to be a sensible height, her nose was not allowed to be too long, she had to look nice in green (green was Thranduil's favourite colour) and she would have piercing blue eyes, as all the romantic stories talk about maidens with blue eyes. It was doubtful that such a Lady existed in Mirkwood, or indeed the world, but Thranduil was more than happy to spend a stretch of time looking for one.  
  
However, the King had not been left to himself to 'find' the perfect mate, instead he had been presented with several maidens who were deemed suitable for the cause. Thranduil had promptly called them all ugly blotched scarecrows and had (for the first time in his life) told them all he was very busy with Kingly affairs so could they please leave him alone.  
  
To everyone's amazement, it was Celeborn who came up with a solution to the problem of a Queen. He suggested that Thranduil took a few months absence, calling in both Rivendell to see Elrond (who soon was to marry Celebrian) and also in Lothlorien, where he would be able to greet his aunt Galadriel. Much to the delight of the court, Thranduil had been pleased with this idea and had promptly given instructions to leave the following day. Within a few weeks they were in Lothlorien, much to the annoyance of Galadriel but to the relief of both relatives, friends and subjects the King had spotted a potential Queen in less than an hour of being there.  
  
To Thranduil's exponentially increasing excitement, Melian decided on the coy approach and during the next few years lead him on a fine song and a dance around the glades of Lorien, stopping only when Thranduil sang.  
  
Everything had stopped when Thranduil sang.  
  
It was later said in legends of Elves, that even the sun stopped when Thranduil sang. This was no compliment, the only reason people stopped was that his songs were so awful, all one could do was stay rooted to the spot until they were over. Birds would fall out of their trees, wolves would cease their howling and ents would run miles. It was said behind the King's back, that brave orcs had actually asked the King for private tutoring of these songs, so they could freeze the elves in battle.  
  
However, as the years passed, the King's strange antics slowly won the heart of Melian, she saw him as a desperate cause, an elf lost in the world with no one to look after him. After having known him for all of three years, Melian proposed to Thranduil.  
  
* 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter 2  
  
When Melian proposed, Thranduil had been shocked. Here he was, not only King of Mirkwood, but the most fanciful elf in the land (admittedly that part was a self assumption - but evidently a right one) and he was being proposed to by a delicious but obviously impertinent maid. Did she not read the stories? The man was supposed to do the proposing.  
  
However, Thranduil soon began to think about it differently. Whilst it didn't fit with any of the romantic stories, or indeed any of the love songs so commonly sung by the elves when they were sober (the drunken ones were raucous and often involved sheep); there was a charm to the thought of composing a new love song in which something totally original happened. And she was delicious.  
  
"My dearest Melian!" Thranduil cried with delight, "Words cannot express the joy I feel to be honoured with such a proposal. I shall have to compose a song to truly show my feelings!"  
  
And Melian laughed. Later, Thranduil would remember that laugh as being the contented and relived tinkle of a lady who had achieved her life's desire. Melian would remember it as the first manipulation of many.  
  
Her face darkened suddenly, "But you have not accepted! - Oh! What of your answer? Am I to be refused? Or will you leave this poor innocent maiden to wait for years, for her cruel step-mother to marry her to someone else?" Melian knew perfectly well that Thranduil would jump to this.  
  
"You have an evil stepmother? Excellent! That'll have to be go into the song too!" The crazed King had continued, "And plainly your parents will undoubtedly forbid this marriage?"  
  
Knowing she'd got him, Melian threw herself at the delighted King, wrapping her arms about his neck. "Alas! What are we to do?"  
  
Deliberately, as her face was only inches from his, the King licked his lips. "Elope."  
  
"But to where? Where could we go? My cruel parents," here Melian heaved a dramatic sigh, "will follow us anywhere."  
  
"Fear not gentle maid, let us go hence to Rivendell, where my dear old friend Master Elrond will afford us shelter and make us very welcome!"  
  
Melian grinned. This was going to be so easy.  
  
*  
  
Celebrian had only four months before her marriage to Elrond, and being the hormonal female that she was, it was all getting a bit much for her. Well it was either that or her mother being hormonal for both of them.  
  
For some illogical motherly reason, Galadriel had strictly forbidden her to leave under any circumstances, and Elrond was not allowed to see her either; Galadriel had sent him back to Rivendell. To add insult to injury, Melian - Celebrian's only very close friend - was being courted by some elf named Thranduil who was allowed to see her, which was totally unfair.  
  
Getting up from where she had been sitting (attempting to read some pointless history on Lorien, in which some stupid old elf fart took four chapters to cross a bridge before Lady Galadriel to make sure the bridge was safe) Celebrian moved over to the window.  
  
"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT" Galadriel shrieked, "You are NOT going out! How many times do I have to tell you! GUARDS! BOLT THE DOORS, BAR THE WINDOWS! You are NOT going ANYWHERE, and you are certainly NOT GOING TO SEE THAT HALF ELF ELROND!" Galadriel continued to shout about what an awful choice Elrond was and how she was letting her whole family down.  
  
Celebrian sighed. This was getting a little tedious. For the past nine months Galadriel had watched her daughter like a hawk, bitchily screaming at her every move, determined that no action would go unnoticed. She had even forbidden Melian to visit, after Gil-galad, on one of his visits before the war, had said how brazen she was. Wondering if her mother was pregnant, Celebrian turned and glared at her. A wicked gleam suddenly came to her eye.  
  
"Ammë," Celebrian put on her sweetest smile, "I've been wondering about something, but I'm not sure who or how I should ask," she tried very hard to blush.  
  
"Yes, DAUGHTER?" snapped Galadriel.  
  
"Well, you see, I've been thinking a little bit about Elrond," immediately Galadriel stiffened - she thoroughly disapproved of anyone even mentioning the Half-elf her daughter was about to marry, "You know, about how he's a, a male elf," Celebrian paused for effect, knowing that her mother hated talking of such things, especially in front of other people, "And ada's a male elf too," here one of the guards in the room stifled a snigger.  
  
Galadriel's face had gone white, but she managed a nod.  
  
"And I was just wondering, what is it that makes them Man elves and us Lady elves? And what happens when you get married? Where do the babies come from?" Celebrian rushed out the last sentence in an act of breathless innocence.  
  
Mablung, who was one of the less important guards on duty, collapsed howling with laughter, uncontrollably oblivious of his Queen's anger. His captain Magor was facing away from the others, but his shoulders were heaving. A third guard who was supposedly keeping watch on the window was bent double and wheezing with pain.  
  
Galadriel rose from her chair in supreme disgust. "Ask your father. He'll be delighted to inform you, seeing as that little friend of a -" Galadriel paused, knowing that Melian could soon be an equal in rank to her, "- madam hasn't told you." With that the Queen stormed out of the room without giving any orders to, or even acknowledging the guards.  
  
"Well Princess," the captain said, "You certainly know how to wind up your mother and come away in one piece, you must show us how it's done."  
  
Celebrian, who was quickly tying her hair back, looked up and smiled. "I believe it is only motherly protection that stops her from tearing me apart. One day, my luck will run out."  
  
"I'll tell you what," the guard by the window said, "I can always show you, what your mother didn't tell you. Be a shame for her to murder you before you've learnt about a few things.."  
  
Celebrian grinned, "Believe me, if I ever need some. tuition. you'll be my first call." She threw an outdoor cloak on, and made to leave the room. Mablung blocked her path.  
  
"My dear Princess, your mother would eat me," he said nervously, "She's always been telling us not to let you out of here."  
  
"My mother will be taking at least the rest of the day to recover from such an ordeal. I'll be back within the hour." Celebrian beamed.  
  
Mablung looked to his Captain, who nodded. He moved to one side.  
  
Blowing kisses to each of the guards, Celebrian quickly left the room.  
  
*  
  
Melian was just finishing packing when Celebrian dashed into her flet from a neighbouring tree.  
  
"Haven't seen you for a while Cel," Melian said with a grin, "Your mother teaching you how to be a good wife?"  
  
"Shut up Melian," Celebrian replied with no enthusiasm, "My dearest mother has just had a fit at me. She still thinks you're a bad influence."  
  
Here the future Queen drew herself up to her full height. "I am not. If anything it's your fault I'm being forced to flee to Imladris. Alas for my cruel parents!"  
  
Celebrian, however, had not been blessed with much imagination. "What are you talking about? Your parents aren't cruel. They're certainly a lot nicer than mine."  
  
Melian rolled her eyes skywards. Then, thinking that a visit to Imladris might cheer her friend up a bit, she told Celebrian of the elopement. By the time she had finished, Celebrian was squirming with rapture.  
  
"You're so naughty Mel!" the delighted Princess cried. "Surely you won't actually do this, I mean, your parents wouldn't approve would they?"  
  
Melian sighed. "No they wouldn't, I told you they were cruel. So, are you coming? Thranduil said to be ready at sunset. Apparently all romantic things happen then."  
  
Celebrian had led a life of boredom compared to Melian up till now, and the idea of an elopement really appealed to her deprived mind. Leaping up from Melian's bed, she dashed off to find her horse, with Melian's "Just don't let on to anyone else" ringing in her ears.  
  
It then occurred to her that by going to Imladris, she would also be seeing Elrond, as well as getting away from her annoying excuse for a mother and the even worse drip of a father.  
  
*  
  
That evening, Thranduil and his two Lady companions were galloping west, towards the borders of Lorien. Unfortunately, Galadriel's spies were everywhere, and the conversation between Melian and Celebrian had not gone unheard, neither had their hasty departure.  
  
Galadriel, who always ate a lot when she was angry, had just started on her third helping of dessert when her most faithful maidservant rushed in with a delighted smile on her face.  
  
"My Lady," she cried with reckless abandon, "Your daughter's horse has gone missing! What are we to do?"  
  
Galadriel suddenly realised that their dear daughter was not present. In fact lots of people who should have been there were not, and she hadn't noticed them either. This may have been due to the awful row she had had recently with her husband about the colour of the dress she was going to wear at Celebrian's wedding. Galadriel wanted to wear white, as usual, but Celeborn was being difficult and wanted to wear gold, as after all, they were very important people.  
  
Galadriel had won by telling her husband that if he didn't agree she would take her daughter's place at the wedding, and marry Elrond. Celeborn was a soft touch and had decided that he would never wish that on anyone, and so had relented with the notion not to speak to his wife for at least a week.  
  
And so they had sat, unspeaking for their meals, much to the enjoyment of the servants and guards who attended them. Neither Lord nor Lady acknowledged the presence of anyone, until Hareth had arrived.  
  
"So where is she?" Celeborn demanded, "She can't have just dissappeared."  
  
"Um, well you see my Lord," here Hareth turned an interesting shade of red, "She said something about going for a ride with Melian."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, girl." Galadriel snapped, "My daughter would not consort with such lowly people as that trollop"  
  
"Actually ma'am," Hareth continued, all politeness, "I overheard a conversation they had." Hareth tapped her nose meaningfully.  
  
It was at this point, right on cue, that Mablung burst in with the news that both Celebrian, Melian and Thranduil had dissappeared, as had their horses. He glossed over the part about them failing to guard Celebrian properly. As the attention was not on her, Hareth allowed herself a quiet titter.  
  
Unluckily, it was not quiet enough. Celeborn turned on her and in a quivering voice, demanded to know all of what was happening.  
  
Frightened by Celeborn's rage, Hareth happily told them of the planned elopement with the King of Mirkwood to Rivendell. By the end of the stirring tale (which involved very cruel parents, lovers separated by exceedingly cruel fate for years, and then being cruelly reunited and deciding to take cruel matters into their own hands and elope together), one of the guards had fetched a harp and was already composing a song, most of the elves were discussing the finer points of what was a wholly original story. Galadriel had fainted and Celeborn was just about managing not to have a fit.  
  
Eventually, after finding some elves who had not heard the story and so were not distracted by song writing, Galadriel and Celeborn had organised a search party and were riding west as fast as fate would allow. Galadriel had insisted on riding with her husband, their previous argument forgotten, because she said it was more romantic.  
  
*  
  
Thranduil was really enjoying the ride.  
  
Lorien was very beautiful at this time of the year. The two maidens he was with had proved to be excellent company, and they could certainly sing. Within half an hour's riding, they had slowed to a steady walk, and were all singing at the tops of their voices about being unloved and waterfalls.  
  
After another heart-rending song about a rainbow and a flower, Melian feigned tiredness, meaning they had to stop. Thranduil happily sang a lovely lullaby to lull her to sleep, and then, seeing as she didn't seem to sleep very well, he picked her up, and rocked her to sleep, whilst trying to remember all the words to some long complex chant that his school masters had tried to teach him.  
  
Celebrian was keeping watch, at least she was trying to. It had proved very difficult to keep a straight face when a King was trying to sing a Lady to sleep with the most hideous chant ever put to voice. It was when the King had sung the first verse for the ninth time that Mablung leapt out of a tree, looking worried..  
  
Thranduil dropped Melian and happily drew his sword, declaring that he would defend his beloved unto death, even if it meant losing his own life.  
  
Celebrian moved between the two men and calmly slapped Thranduil's sword to one side. "Don't bother Thrandy, this ones a mate of mine."  
  
Mablung bowed low. "My dearest Princess, it is my duty and honour to inform you that you dear mother and father are fast approaching, with the evil intent upon dragging you back to the prison of Lothlorien." Here the young guard tried very hard to wipe an imaginary tear from his eye, "You must flee at once, if you are to survive."  
  
Melian let out a thin wail, terrified of being discovered. But already, Thranduil was master of the situation. Dragging the horses out of their little repose, the Mirkwood King helped both frail, defenceless maidens onto their horses, and within a couple a minutes they were off again, leaving Mablung looking very happy. He'd been getting fed up with Thranduil. And whilst Celebrian was going too (all the guards loved Celebrian - apart from the gay ones who adored her), he reckoned it was time she had some fun, with a mother like that and all.  
  
Two weeks later, after some very hard riding to escape the Lorien guard, Thranduil Celebrian and Melian reached the borders of Imladris.  
  
* 


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter 3  
  
Elrond was bored, restless and extremely irritable. He had been sent from Lorien a few months before in disgrace. Galadriel had not responded well to the engagement; publicly for the simple reason that he did not live in Lothlorien, but privately because his ring was far more powerful.  
  
Celebrian kept writing to say that he wasn't writing to her, which was totally untrue, he wrote at least once a day, but none of his letters seemed to get through. This was because his good friend Glorfindel had been intercepting them and reading them out in the Hall of Fire when Elrond had gone to bed. The poetry that Elrond wrote for his beloved had his subjects in hysterics for hours.  
  
Glorfindel had also been badgering every hour for the past two weeks about what colour Elrond was going to wear for the wedding. It had to be burgundy, in Glorfindel's view, as it went with Elrond's dark hair, but after trying on the fiftieth robe in two days the Lord of Imladris had lost interest. How many burgundy robes were in existence for Valar's sake?  
  
Elrond had four months before his marriage it which time he had to sort out the council of Imladris (this was a daily council of all the important people in Rivendell, where nothing of importance was discussed, but by which the whole community was kept running), convince Glorfindel that he really didn't want to flirt with Celebrian after they were married, re- decorate the great hall (or get a servant to) and he had to make his wife a garden of her very own, (Gil-galad used to say that all Ladies liked that sort of thing).  
  
Elrond had found a suitable spot for this, it was behind the statue with a droopy beard - itself a family talisman. However, seeing as he had no idea as to what colours his future wife liked, it seemed an impossible task, even for a servant.  
  
He'd finally decided white was probably the best colour, as doubtless Cel would wear white at the wedding (if she was her mother's daughter). Elrond arose and walked towards the window of his study, only to have his peace interrupted by the door flying open and crashing into the wall behind.  
  
Lindir stood with an expression of delight on his face. Already, Lindir could hear one of the elvish minstrels beginning the forms of a song about eloping lovers. Grinning from ear to ear, Lindir announced the arrival of some extremely important guests.  
  
"And who, might I ask are they, that their arrival warrants the disruption of your Lord's busy afternoon?" the Lord snapped, "I try to keep this place going but all I get is ingratitude, disturbance.." Elrond suddenly paled. His voice faded into a whisper as he sank into a chair. "Please," he gasped, "Please, promise me that it isn't my future mother in law come to tear me to shreds for not being a Lothlorien ponce."  
  
Lindir had to try very hard to suppress his laughter at the sight of this respected Elf Lord turning into a mass of quaking jelly at the mention of the dreaded Golden Wood Demon (such was her reputation in Rivendell).  
  
"Nay my Lord," Lindir noticed the immense relief flood across his master's face, but thinking that he had not suffered enough (after all, Galadriel had been livid when she found out) "But it is someone closely related to her, and doubtless they will bear ill from her." Lindir informed him, stretching the truth somewhat.  
  
Arising, Elrond put on his 'I am the Lord of Imladris, fear me' look, and gracefully swept out of the room to greet the important guests. The minute he had left, Lindir helped himself to Elrond's harp that sat by the window and began to hum the introduction to a flowering love song in which a totally new thing happened.  
  
*  
  
Thranduil happily dismounted from his magnificent stallion and gallantly helped both maidens to the ground. Melian gave him a look which plainly said 'you really are the most wonderful elf I know, I would be dead if it were not for you.'  
  
Celebrian, on the other hand, was looking round for traces of her beloved Elrond. When she saw there were none to be found the Princess of the Golden Wood contented herself on thinking of what her mother's reaction must have been when she'd found out that her dear daughter had hitched a ride with someone as common as Thranduil.  
  
It seemed that everyone in Rivendell had turned out to greet them, evidently word of their flight from Lorien had reached all corners of the world, even before they reached their destination. Garlands of roses (an exceptionally romantic flower) had been hung all around the main entrance, elvish minstrels were singing gaily, maidens were dancing and even Gandalf (who looked as though he was thoroughly enjoying the scandal) had flowers in his beard, twisted in his hat and even looped around his staff.  
  
Celebrian was extremely happy. This was going to be a lovely place to live in if this was all the elves did all day.  
  
It was at this point that Elrond arrived. The crowds of elves parted - some wore smirks, others had looks of patronising delight and one or two wore looks of total jealousy, Melian had always been something of a legendary beauty - Glorfindel hastily took up position beside his Lord and with much rejoicing, the eloping lovers were made welcome to Imladris.  
  
*  
  
Surprise had not been adequate to describe Elrond's feelings when he first saw Celebrian standing next to Thranduil. His delight however, was soon to be replaced by sheer terror, doubtless Galadriel was fast approaching. That evening as the whole community tucked in to another superb feast in honour of the guests (yesterday they had been celebrating Glorfindel's finding of the wedding robe) Elrond was caught up in thought. Would Galadriel object to Melian marrying Thranduil? Would she poke her nose into someone else's business (as she so frequently did) and forbid him to marry Melian, who was so obviously beneath her husband's nephew's rank?  
  
Elrond turned his attention to Thranduil, who was telling the story of their escape. The King of Mirkwood made it sound as though they had been escaping from Mordor itself, and by the look on his beloved's face, they might have been.  
  
"And once we'd got out of Lorien," The King continued after nearly an hour of telling how awful Galadriel was, "Our troubles were far from over. Orcs, trolls and even Balrogs attacked us several times, but I would not let them harm the dear maidens, who so evidently needed protecting. Many an enemy fell to my trusty long sword."  
  
Glorfindel scowled. It was well known he was the only person to kill a balrog and live (after a fashion). His expression soon changed however, when he saw the look Celebrian was giving Elrond, whom was either under the effect of too much alcohol or was totally uneducated in the art of maidens. The latter didn't seem very likely. Gil-galad had always been a bad influence.  
  
It did not come of much a surprise when he saw that neither his Lord nor his future Lady were paying any attention to Thranduil. Elrond was, as usual, lost in thought (either that or he usually looked totally blank). Deciding now would be good time to leave, Glorfindel got up and wandered out of the hall, only to find he had fallen into a fishpond.  
  
*  
  
Celebrian was astounded. Elrond had basically ignored her for the whole evening and what was even worse was that he had escorted her to her chamber and then just left her without any sign of coming back again. All she could assume was that he was either drunk or simply playing the innocent which he blatantly wasn't.  
  
After a while's meditation Celebrian hit the conclusion that Elrond was probably behaving himself from fear of her mother. If Galadriel even suspected that he was dallying with her precious daughter (which bearing in mind the circumstances, she probably did) then Elrond's life would soon be over, despite being the most powerful Elf Lord East of the sea.  
  
"Why did Valar give me such awful parents?" Celebrian groaned as she slumped into a chair beside a roaring fire. "Why couldn't my parents be nice for a change?"  
  
To her surprise she got an answer. "It's far more romantic milady," her hastily assigned maid replied. "Just think, this double elopement will be in all the history books of Middle Earth!"  
  
Celebrian began to cry. "But after this, they wont let us marry, instead I'll have to marry that old drip Celebrimbor, just because he fancies my mother and ada got there first he turned his attention to me and then..."  
  
The maid cut her off. "Milady, wasn't he was killed in the battle of the Last Alliance?"  
  
Celebrian looked blank for a few minutes. "Oh yes," she finally came out with, "Yes, he was. What a crying shame. I'm sure Ammë was very upset to have her only admirer killed."  
  
Knowing it was not wise to go down that path, the maid thought quickly. She liked the idea of being the maid to the first lady - so it was important to her too, that Celebrian was able to marry Elrond. She decided to suggest something that was known in Lorien as horrendous sin, in Imladris as minor- scandal and in Mirkwood as just plain amusing. Putting on a look that made it seem as though she had just come up with the answer to the world's problems, she glided over to Celebrian and sat down beside her.  
  
"Milady," she began, with far more politeness than was normal or strictly necessary, "I know it's not my place to say such things but I have an idea that will mean your parents will have to let you marry Lord Elrond..."  
  
*  
  
Elrond had just finished his favourite bedtime story (one about dragons, handsome princes, a damsel in distress and a heartbreaking love scene at the end) when a knock sounded at his door. Without swearing about blasted servants who never did their job, he shouted out for whomever it was to come in and preferably be quick about it.  
  
Thranduil bounded in. He had been delighted to see his old friend again, and he felt exceptionally proud of himself for bringing Elrond's true love along.  
  
Elrond, needless to say was not quite so pleased at having his peaceful dwelling uprooted, the threat of his future mother in law increasing and his beauty sleep delayed.  
  
Deciding that humouring the crazed Greenleaf for a while might be the shortest way to get back to going to sleep, he politely enquired as to the nature of Thranduil's presence.  
  
Thranduil had never been one to mince words on important topics. "Melian and I aren't really married. Do you think it matters?" The last sentence was delivered with a meaningful nudge.  
  
Elrond grinned wickedly. "Don't tell god-awful Galadriel I told you this, but it never bothered her and Celeborn one bit."  
  
Thranduil looked ecstatic. This would prove excellent bribing material if nothing else. "Really?"  
  
Elrond continued to smirk. "Gil-galad used to complain about the awful noise they made. It could hardly be called discrete."  
  
"That," a voice suddenly interrupted them, "Is because mother is the least discrete person in Middle Earth. If you ask me it's sickening."  
  
Thranduil looked Celebrian up and down with one raised eyebrow. "And what pray, my dear Princess, are you doing here? Have you lost your way or something? Or have you come to bid Elrond good night?"  
  
Celebrian looked at Elrond who's grin had become wider. "I will leave it to your imagination my dear Thrandy. Now kindly go and see to Melian, she was getting a bit lonely when I saw her."  
  
Thranduil, remembering Elrond's advice, bounded back out of the door, excited with the prospect. Celebrian walked over to the door and locked it.  
  
Elrond looked at her with one raised eyebrow. He was very glad he'd worked on his physique for the past three hundred years. Doubtless Celebrian would be most impressed.  
  
Celebrian looked at him with her head on one side. "I'm only here because my maid tells me that by staying here," here Celebrian blushed, "Ammë will just have to let me marry you."  
  
"Or if she thinks I made you stay, she'll just have me hung, drawn and quartered." Elrond responded dryly, but it was a feeble protest.  
  
"My maid also told me that if I told everyone I passed on the way where I was going, it would go down as me being the. er. initiator?" She blushed even more.  
  
"We shall have to promote this maid of yours." Elrond replied. Throwing caution to the winds he wrapped his arms around Celebrian.  
  
A few minutes later Celebrian was purring. "You do have a nice figure."  
  
* 


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter 4  
  
The sun was high in the sky.  
  
The birds were still resting after getting worn out from a very noisy dawn chorus - a chorus that had failed to rouse any of the Valley's dwellers.  
  
The gentle breeze sent ripples through the long golden grass, fat glossy bees lazily flew around, beautiful butterflies drifted from flower to flower, not paying any real attention as to where they were going.  
  
The only life that seemed to be vaguely awake after nearly an hours calling from their impatient livestock were the elves.  
  
But neither their Lord nor any of his three noble guests had been seen since the previous evening. It would be understandable if the three travellers were tired (though perhaps not Thranduil, who always had the energy of a stallion, so he was often heard to boast) after all, they had had a long journey. The absence of their Lord however, was cause for concern.  
  
Nevertheless, by midday, everyone who had seen Celebrian last night had spoken to as many people as possible, and as elves had always been renown for their gossiping, the result was nearly everyone was in the know as to what had happened to the weary travellers (who evidently were not as tired as they appeared) and their beloved Lord, who usually worked so tirelessly for them night and day.  
  
When Elrond finally made an appearance, it was to the sight of many raised eyebrows, laughing and in most cases romantic sighs. Scandals involving the common folk would be heavily frowned upon, but in the case of the Lords and Princesses, it was considered romantic, rather than dishonourable. Glorfindel in particular was squirming with rapture.  
  
Ignoring one and all with a superb show of disdain, Elrond swept into his study, only to be bombarded within minutes by Glorfindel, Erestor and Gandalf all demanding to know why he had missed the important council meeting that morning. All three of the filthy males knew exactly why he hadn't been there, but much like Lindir, they thoroughly enjoyed making their Lord suffer. Or they wanted the juicy details. There was only a fine line separating the two.  
  
But before Elrond's ears could even turn red, a loud trumpet blasted outside, heralding the arrival of yet more visitors. And these were no ordinary visitors. All four of the noble and respected Lords and Ringbearers recognised the sound of it.  
  
Elrond paled and collapsed into a chair.  
  
"She's here."  
  
*  
  
"And don't forget Master Elrond," Gandalf added with a smirk, some half an hour later, when they had all put on their best clothes, in order to receive the important visitors, "She's in your territory now, so she has to go by your rules."  
  
"Galadriel the great always thought herself above rules." Glorfindel muttered, adjusting his mithril circlet to a more fashionable slant on his head.  
  
"And also, your ring is more powerful than her's." Gandalf smiled. Trouble- stirring old man that he was, he had purposefully stayed in Imladris to witness the confrontation between Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond over the Princess Celebrian.  
  
"And don't forget what you told me last night," Thranduil (who had hastily got up when he had heard the trumpet) put in, "She can hardly talk."  
  
"And," Celebrian added, a brilliant blush rising in her cheeks, "I was the initiator." Here everyone except Elrond burst out laughing.  
  
"You're so like your dear mother Cel!" Gandalf cried with extreme delight, carefully removing one of yesterday's dead roses from his beard.  
  
Melian wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "So really, she has no proper argument at all."  
  
Elrond, summoning up all his courage and flanked by Gandalf, Glorfindel, Celebrian, Thranduil and Melian, made his way towards the main entrance hall, an imposing, marble coated room to meet his livid future mother-in- law.  
  
*  
  
Words could not describe how Galadriel felt. Not only had her daughter left with a commoner such as Melian, she had disobeyed her mother, and had gone to see that miserable half elf, whom she had been strictly forbidden to see. She had then led her own mother into his territory, where she was supposedly meant to go by his rules, and all things considered, she really should, as he had the more powerful ring, which he would no doubt flaunt at her. The only real weapon she had was intimidating air, which her mother had taught her, but knowing Elrond, this would not be enough. Glorfindel in particular never had had any respect for anyone who was of higher rank than himself. It was probably him that had made up the scandalous lies about how she had got Nenya; everybody in Imladris seemed to think that she had flirted with Celebrimbor in order to win the Ring of Water, which was totally untrue. She had just been a bit drunk.  
  
Sticking her nose up towards the blue, cloudless sky, she allowed Celeborn (who seemed to be furious, though more likely he was pretending, he'd always adored action such as this) to help her off her horse. She followed Magor, who was acting as the herald, into the entrance hall.  
  
To her surprise she was met by a stony faced Elrond, who had her daughter on his arm. Melian was standing next to the dirty smirking Thranduil. Gandalf and Glorfindel looked as though they were trying very hard not to start laughing. Celebrian, who seemed very proud of herself, avoided looking at her mother's face. All of a sudden, the floor tiles seemed very interesting.  
  
Without further ado, Elrond and Galadriel engaged in a staring contest, which only stopped when Celebrian let go of Elrond and launched herself at Celeborn, coming between Elrond and Galadriel's line of sight.  
  
To the amazement of all present Galadriel caught hold of her daughter in a vice-like grip (she had had lessons in the art of dwarven wrestling in her far away youth) and announced that she was never to set foot in this place again in a voice that resembled granite.  
  
Celebrian simply smiled.  
  
"I'm so sorry Ammë," she said with supreme elegance and even more sincerity, still refusing to look her mother in the eye, "But Elrond and I have to marry now." Here Celebrian blushed slightly, something that did not go unnoticed by Galadriel.  
  
Galadriel straightened just a little bit more - she made an impressive six and half feet when fully erect. Her eyes boiled with uncontrollable rage, the skies grew dark, lightening flashed and thunder roared around the once- tranquil valley. "There is absolutely NO reason for you to HAVE to marry him DAUGHTER." Galadriel shrieked, as though by saying this, the entire world would fall at her feet. "You will do as you're told for once in your life time, and you are coming back to Lorien THIS MINTUE! There is absolutely NO reason at ALL for you to stay. Understand?" Galadriel looked down her nose at her daughter, and gave Celebrian a good shake, as though doing so would make her see sense.  
  
Fate did not seem to be on the Lady of Lothlorien's side that day. Gandalf happily stepped forward to intervene, lest Elrond lost his dear Princess.  
  
"Oh but there is," Gandalf said with a delighted grin on his face, hastily removing a ribbon from his hat that had been overlooked from yesterday's festivities. "In case you haven't heard, these two naughty elves 'saw' each other last night." Gandalf gave Celeborn a meaningful wink.  
  
"YOU DID WHAT??" Galadriel's voice shook the roof. She ignored how ironic it was for her to me saying this, she could still see her mother's face when she had found out about her and Celeborn.  
  
Elrond stifled a grin, forgetting that a sinister scowl was called on for dealing with god-awful Galadriel when she was in a bad mood. Thranduil gave a rather loud snigger.  
  
Celebrian gave her mother a wide smile, looking up at her for the first time. "Yes, you see, when you didn't tell me about man-elves, I went to ask Elrond. He was kind enough to show me." Celebrian blushed slightly, remembering the events of the previous night.  
  
Galadriel went white, her eyes becoming so large they resembled saucers, but before she could even open her mouth to shout at Elrond, one of her guards (who had been present the when Galadriel had refused to elaborate on the subject) collapsed howling with laughter.  
  
Glorfindel could no longer contain himself and promptly followed suit.  
  
Magor, remembering the conversation between mother and daughter a few weeks back, called out across the hall, "Bad luck Mablung, sounds like Elrond got there first."  
  
Mablung looked up and with a perfectly straight face, turned to Celebrian. He swore long and loudly, complaining that he thought they had something special. He was quickly shouted down by one of his fellows, who also thought he had been in with a chance.  
  
Ignoring them totally, Galadriel turned to Elrond. "I thought, Elrond," she said in a trembling voice, "That you of all people had more self-restraint than to-" Galadriel was cut of by Thranduil, who wore a look of supreme ecstasy.  
  
"Did you know what I heard yesterday, my dear auntie Galady?"  
  
Galadriel, who could read minds, suddenly snapped her mouth shut. Her lips formed a white line across her face and if looks could kill, Thranduil would have died slowly and painfully there and then. She let go of Celebrian, who happily threw herself at her father, (Celeborn had so far made no attempt to help his wife in the disciplining of there daughter) and then went back to cling to Elrond.  
  
"I heard that you and Celeborn were just as bad. That you and Celeborn were also -ah- 'seeing' each other before you were married." Thranduil announced in a voice so loud that people standing outside could hear it.  
  
Galadriel couldn't speak for a few seconds, her eyes narrowed into thin slits and once she finally regained her composure she was about to deny it all, but Celeborn's pointed ears had turned a deep shade of pink. It was all the proof Thranduil needed. He finished with a, "So really, I don't think you have cause for complaint."  
  
Wearing a very satisfied smile, Thranduil looked back at Galadriel.  
  
Before anyone could stop her, Galadriel wrenched her arm free of Celeborn (who was now struggling to hide his amusement) and then the Queen of Lorien stormed out heading in the direction of the stables. She was followed by nearly every single elf howling with laughter.  
  
Elrond tried very hard not to smirk at Galadriel's supreme defeat. Turning to Celebrian (who was now giggling uncontrollably) he was about to tell her that he would return to his study to sort out the things he had missed at council that morning, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Celeborn, much to the surprise of all present, had not followed his wife. Instead he addressed his future son-in-law; "You have more about you than I first thought Elrond." Celeborn said smugly, with a slight smile on his face. "But I think she was very close to killing you, and doubtless, unless she calms down within the next century, when you two meet next she will kill you."  
  
Elrond smiled. "Probably. Never mind, I don't think that we'll see her for a while. Can I interest you in refreshment?"  
  
Shaking his head in wry amusement, Celeborn followed Elrond into one of the many reception chambers, pausing en route only to kick Glorfindel who was still lying on the floor in fits of laughter.  
  
*  
  
Galadriel was livid. It didn't particularly bother her that much that Celebrian had seen Elrond the previous night, impatience had always been a family trait, on both Celeborn's side and her own. What really annoyed her was the way she had been ridiculed by Thranduil, who didn't even have a ring, and Gandalf, whose ring was not nearly as pretty or as powerful as her own. It made her even more angry that Celeborn, instead of being the gallant male that she had always dreamed of, had simply stood there smirking, not even raising a finger to fight off the people who insulted her.  
  
To add insult to injury, everyone who saw her now seemed to burst out laughing. This may simply have been the effect of an over-active imagination, an over-active Nenya which had not been used to kill Elrond and an over-active temper.  
  
Deciding never to speak to anyone again, Galadriel had stormed over to the stables, thinking only of how soon she could complete the long journey back to Lothlorien. A thought suddenly struck her. Was Cirdan still single?  
  
After half and hour's intelligent thinking, and at least four hour's pointless raging (which scared the horses of Elrond's stables senseless) Galadriel had come to a decision. She would ride with all haste to Cirdan, tell him of the horrendous fate that had befallen her and he would then say that they were to raise war against Elrond in an attempt to show him who was the most powerful.  
  
As her journey progressed, and as Galadriel began to calm down she began to wonder if this really was a good idea. It was said Cirdan had never married due to his gambling debts as well as his inability to hold and responsibility, (hence he had given his ring, Narya to Gandalf), and so making him the most important person in a war may not prove successful. He would at least make an agony aunt for a few weeks though. And because he was seven feet tall (so the Queen of Lorien liked to think) no one would make up scandalous lies about him and the most beautiful Queen East of the sea.  
  
Her mind being made up on the subject, Galadriel braced herself for the journey ahead. The horse she had picked from Elrond's stable was given to flatulence.  
  
* 


End file.
